All Roads Lead to Rome

We've have those legendary trips to Rome where we sprint around the Eternal City with guests in tow seeing all of the sights.  At a break neck pace, we've eaten a good meal, snapped requisite pictures, rested our weary feet each night, and then taken the train back home.  This was kind of one of those trips. 

Our wonderful friend, Deacon, foolishly signed up for the Rome Marathon a month before the race.  We decided that this foolish plan required lots of sideline support to help him make it through.  But it also happened to coincide with my first weekend off from grad school and a massive wave of relief.  But it ALSO happened to coincide with my new, dear friend, Lindsey, coming to Rome as well!  The stars aligned, the Roman gods of old smiled down upon us and we converged on the city!

I think the idea of taking the train is something that the modern, budget airlines have, in my opinion, eradicated the idea that I once held (long reinforced by American baby-boomers) that the train is the fastest and most affordable way to travel throughout Europe.  I mean, we do it every one in a while, but  it's kind of a pain.  And, as a lady of class and of what I hope will someday evolve into means, we took the bullet train.  The benefit being: you get there in an hour and they give you a glass of prosecco. 

We spent Saturday eating.  I kid you not, we ate and drank our way, lazily, leisurely, throughout Rome.  First outside of the Roman Forum, then in the Piazza Navona, then in Campo Dei Fiori, then near the Coliseum.  It was crazy! 

Day 2 was all about running.  Lindsey and I are both training for half marathons in Edinburgh, Scotland (but in different months.  Drat!) and decided that a 7:30 run would be a good idea.  And you know what?  It was a great idea!  7:30 AM in Rome is a magical time.  The streets are empty and quiet.  We stopped along our 5(ish) mile run at the Pantheon, Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, Roman Forum and took candid iPhone photos.  When these prime tourist locations aren’t crawling with American college students, they are so amazing to take in!  If you ever find yourself in Rome or Paris or London or wherever, go running early in the morning and just marvel.  It’s such a wonderful way to experience the city. 

After running 5 little miles, we geared up to watch our friend run 26.2.  I felt even more whimpy.  I love cheering on runners in races.  Having done 1 full marathon and a handful of half marathons, I find that the motivation from people on the sidelines is amazing.  My husband chased me all over San Diego when I did the marathon there and I firmly believe that he’s the only reason that I finished.  Not stubbornness, not shame, not dedication, just the knowledge that he’d be worried about me at the next mile marker if I didn’t make.  That said, we camped out at the 20K mark for Deacon.  

Each runner had their name and country on their race bib so I screamed, SCREAMED, I tell you, as they passed me.  “GIUSEPPE!!!  BRAVISSIMO!!!”  Marco, Pasquale, Anna Maria, Silvana, Luigi, Anotonio, Luisa – Lindsey and I screamed for them all, while on-lookers snickered and Tom hung his head in shame.  And then at last, we saw Deacon!  In the rain, pushing through, and I lost it!  Screaming like a mad woman, my hands bright red, my voice practically gone!  We chased him across downtown Rome and got to see him 2 more times, the only souls cheering along the way.  But you know what?  I don’t know those people!  I don’t really care if they think that I’m crazy.  I mean, partially because I am a little crazy, but also because you grumps couldn’t be bothered to clap for someone.  Judge away, I had a marvelous time.  And Deacon finished the race.  And even smiled, when he saw us!

As always, Rome was a glorious time.  We laughed a lot with Lindsey, who lives here with her husband and not another American around for hours, helped her to get her fill of Americans, and even got to eat Indian food!  I mean, all in all, that’s a big win!